Equitably Inequitable
by Inks Inc
Summary: He's always treated her differently, subtly so, but differently nonetheless. However, when Emily's actions spark warfare in the field, those differences became much less subtle and truths escape like wildfire through the cracks that are left behind. WARNING: Reference to Spanking. Completed One-Shot. Hotch/Emily.


Flecks of spitting rage burned in the deep brown eyes. Aaron was a lot of things, but a shouter wasn't one of them. But as he slammed his office door shut, a shriek very nearly tore from his throat. Prentiss, far from put out, merely stared back at him from dark eyes with an expression of almost bored exasperation flitting about her features. Striding to stand behind his desk as she casually placed herself on the outer side of it, Hotch was shaking in anger. Pressing his hands on the polished surface in an inane attempt to calm himself, he gave up as they balled into fists. "Explain yourself," he snarled, "Explain just what you think gave you licence to act as you have acted." He looked up then, a nearly feral glare festering around the corners of his eyes.

" _Now."_

Emily resisted a shrug of her shoulders, but only just. Biting her lip so she wouldn't allow the images that had no business being in her head blossom, she failed, miserably. "What would you like me to say, Hotch? That I'm sorry? That I won't do it again? Because I'm not and presented with the same circumstances, you bet your bottom dollar I would do it again." She did shrug, then, and took a step closer to her hissing boss. "What is your problem, Hotch? Why are you like this with me? You don't react this way to JJ or even Garcia being in dangerous situations, when there are no other options. But when it's me, you always react this way. Your pulse quickens, your heart beats double and those little pools of sweat at your temples trickle down the sides of your face. Why?" She took another step closer, tipping her head to the side, her white teeth worrying her bottom lip in a way that made Hotch shiver where he stood.

Damn her.

"Agent Prentiss," he murmured coolly, "My reactions are not the topic of discussion here. Yours are. Specifically, your inability to react appropriately to very clear orders issued to you by your superiors." She grinned then, sending his heart into tumultuous overdrive. "Agent Prentiss?" she chuckled, the sounds of her laughter causing his eyes to dart to the floor for cover. "Is that really what we're going with here, Agent Hotchner?" She cocked her head to the side. "Or is _Sir_ , more appropriate?" Closing his eyes in despair as her voice seemed to tickle his neck like the sultriest of summer breezes, Hotch licked his dry lips. "Agent Hotchner will suffice," he answered stiffly. "As you well know. Now, I am still waiting on that explanation, Prentiss, and it would be in your best interests to give it to me in a timeframe that will allow me to actually attend Jack's college graduation."

She took another step closer, purposefully brushing her hips off the side of his desk.

"This is the only explanation you are going to receive from me, Agent Hotchner. I did my job and I did it damned well. Whether or not you can figure out what your real issue with my doing so is, is up to you. But that's all I have to say on the matter and…" her eyes roved over his, an incomprehensible urging shining within them "If that's all, I'd like to get home. It's been somewhat of a trying day." When Hotch uncharacteristically and merely gaped at her in answer, she shrugged. "Guess I'll be going then," she announced softly. "Goodnight, Aaron." She swept from the desk then, her dark hair swinging as she went. It took the time for her to reach the door for Hotch to snap out of his reverie and growl deeply in his throat.

"Don't you dare, Prentiss. Don't you even think about it. _I_ dismiss _you_ , not the other way around."

She rested her long fingers on the door handle and turned to face him with a raised brow. "My answer isn't going to change," she said quietly, "You can of course take official action against me, but as of now, I'm done here. You treat me differently to the rest of the team and I'm more than a little tired of waiting for you to put on your big boy pants and figure out _why."_ His eyebrows shot up like a NASA mission as he absorbed her utterly unabashed cheek and indifference to his position. Suddenly, he was moving forwards and within a flash he was right in front of her, glaring at her with a look that would have sent even Morgan running for the hills. To her credit however, she didn't bat an eye.

"Have you forgotten to whom you are speaking?"

His voice was guttural but his hands were soft as he peeled her grip from the door and positioned himself in front of it. She closed her eyes as electricity surged through her at his touch, but shook her head defiantly. "I know perfectly well to whom I am speaking," she repeated in a smirking tone of mockery. "Jeez, Hotch, no one talks like that you know. Lighten up. You're not _that_ old yet. No need to adopt the vernacular of Churchill just yet." If his eyes were smouldering before, they were a full scale forest fire by the time she snapped her mouth shut with a challenging jut of her chin. He crossed his arms across his chest and sucked in a gutful of air. His voice was dark but soft when he spoke.

"You are wildly out of line, Agent Prentiss. Wildly."

She spread her arms defiantly, her stomach full of yearning for his soft touch once more.

"What are you going to do about it Hotch, spank me?!"

Whatever he had been expecting to hear, it sure as hell wasn't that. His eyes widened as he stared down at her, his pulse thudding along like a trilling drum under his pristinely starched shirt. He opened his mouth, expecting to hear a tirade escape him. Threats of formal censure, suspension, even possible reassignment. But, that's not what came out, what came out wasn't even close. But it was sure as hell honest. He had known for a long time why he treated Emily differently to the rest of team when it came to watching her in danger. It was because it was different. It was so different. Watching Emily in danger and being unable to help was nothing like watching Morgan, or Rossi, or JJ. It was different, a different feeling, a different terror. His eyes found hers as he spoke and his hand snaked out to cusp her wrist firmly, but gently.

"Strikes me as being exactly what you need, and it's far from the first time it's crossed my mind."

Sparks of electricity crackled in the tiny distance between them as her breath stilled in her throat.

"Strikes me that someone's finally put on their big boy pants, Agent Hotchner."

…

A/N: Random One-Shot. I always liked the idea of Hotch/Emily, so here we are.

_Inks

…..


End file.
